A Corrupting Influence
by Esther Huffleclaw
Summary: When Clark suggests that Lex is trying to corrupt him, Lex takes it as a dare... or a challenge.
1. A Clear Sky

Dark, heavy wood and muted lighting gave the room a feeling of age and importance. Lex Luthor hated it. Despite the soaring vaulted ceilings, the walls felt close and confining. Sometimes, it felt like he was smothering in his own home. Not now, though. Light and air had followed Clark into the room, as it always did. And that was a sappy idea, but no less true for the flowery words.

"Hey, Lex." Clark walked across the room to the pool table and picked up the cue ball, then looked up and smiled, turning the ball between his fingers. "Up for a game?"

Lex tilted his head, regarding Clark's open, innocent face. He was too innocent; he always had been, but Lex had learned to see the shadows in the clear blue sky, the veils that hid deep secrets from everyone, even Lex. "My father thinks you're remarkable." Lex kept his voice casual, with only a hint of a question to it.

Clark's signature guileless smile appeared. "Does he?" Clark lifted his shoulders in an aw-shucks gesture—not quite a shrug. "I guess my mom has been bragging."

Lex nodded, unconvinced. "I guess." He still found it difficult to wrap his head around the idea of Martha Kent working for his father, but it wasn't out of the realm of possibility that they may have talked about Clark. She had Lionel contributing to charities, after all. Her influence might actually make the older Luthor into something resembling a human being.

Clark appeared oblivious to Lex's skepticism, his mild smile never slipping. It was maddening that nothing ever seemed to shake him.

"It's not an easy task to impress my father." Lex poured himself a drink, watching Clark out of the corner of his eye as the amber liquid splashed into the crystal tumbler. Clark didn't react. Lifting the decanter, Lex raised an eyebrow. "Brandy?"

Clark laughed, his eyes a sundrenched summer sky. "Trying to corrupt me, Lex? You know I'm underage."

It was incredible how naïve he could be while simultaneously completely deceitful. And yet, Lex didn't believe the naïveté was feigned. Despite his secrets, Clark wasn't a very good liar. Replacing the decanter, Lex lifted his glass and turned toward Clark, smiling a small smile. "Maybe."

He lifted the glass to his lips and took a slow sip, never taking his eyes from Clark, who only laughed again. Was there a nervous edge to his laughter this time? Lex's smile widened and he crossed the room to stand before Clark. He carefully placed his drink on the pool table's rail and took another step closer.

"If I was going to try to corrupt you, Clark, I would do this." He lifted a hand and laid it gently along the side of Clark's face. Then, moving slowly so Clark could pull back if he wanted to, he leaned forward and gently kissed him on the lips.

Clark didn't pull back. He stood as if frozen, and yet a shiver went through him as their lips touched. It was possible this was his first kiss—though, he may have kissed Lana; probably had kissed Lana. Either way, he didn't seem to know how to react.

Lex lifted his head after a few seconds—or hours. That was strange; he didn't usually lose track of time when he kissed someone. The sunny summer skies of Clark's eyes had deepened to a stormy night shot with lightning.

"Lex?" Clark sounded slightly breathless, and Lex realized he had never heard Clark out of breath before. His voice was always so calm and even. Unruffled.

Delighted that he had rippled the calm surface even slightly, Lex dropped his hands to Clark's shoulders and brought his lips to Clark's ear. "And then," he whispered, "I would do this."

He took another step forward, turning them both with dancer's grace until Clark was backed up against the pool table. Dipping his head, he touched his lips to the side of Clark's neck, then flicked out his tongue against the skin.

Clark jerked as if shocked, and there was a loud snap. Lex lifted his head, and blinked, staring. Clark had grabbed the rail behind him, and the mahogany had cracked beneath his hands. The glass had tipped over, spilling brandy across the felt, a darker shadow against the deep red. Lex frowned and raised his eyes to meet Clark's. He didn't know that much about the work done on a farm, but he hadn't thought it created _that_ kind of strength.

Clark looked horrified, his eyes wide. "I'm sorry," he said, his voice ragged.

Leaving one hand on Clark's shoulder, Lex ran the fingertips of his other hand over the deep cracks in the expensive wood. "No need to be sorry. I'm not worried about the table. I'm more interested in _how_ you did that." Giving Clark's shoulder a squeeze, he raised his eyes to Clark's face once again, trying to meet his eyes.

Clark ducked his head, his cheeks reddening. His voice was barely a whisper. "I'm stronger than I look."

Lex made a soft sound of agreement. No shit, Sherlock. But why hide his strength? He picked up one of Clark's hands and ran his thumb over the knuckles, then turned it over. The skin was unmarked, soft. He frowned. "Clark, how is it possible that you don't have calluses?"

Clark's voice trembled on the reply. "I… uh… wear gloves."

The lie was so obvious Lex nearly snorted in derision. Raising an eyebrow, he lifted his head, but Clark avoided his eyes, looking down to one side as if the floor was fascinating. Smiling thinly, Lex said mildly, "Must be some gloves."

Clark bit his lip, his eyes flickering up to Lex's face, then away. He lifted his free hand and rubbed the back of his neck. "Yeah." His voice was faint, and lacked his usual conviction.

Lex put two fingers under Clark's chin and gently lifted. Clark's eyes were a moonless midnight, obscuring everything. Lex sighed softly. "I'm not an idiot, Clark. I know you're hiding something from me." Clark opened his mouth, but Lex touched his lips with one finger. "You don't have to tell me. Just… don't lie to me." A shiver went through Clark, setting off electrical shocks all along Lex's nerve endings.

Clark closed his eyes, his long lashes sweeping across his cheeks, and swallowed. He inhaled deeply. "I'm sorry, Lex. I just…" His voice trailed off.

"It's all right." Lex brushed Clark's hair back from his forehead. "Everyone's allowed to have secrets." He grinned. "Just so you know, I'm probably imagining something far worse than it really is."

Clark laughed, his breath hitching slightly. "I doubt it."

Lex grinned again, letting his fingers trail down over Clark's ear. "You're a foundling, a faery child left on Jonathan and Martha's doorstep."

Clark's laugh was breathless. "Lex…"

Lex traced the curve of Clark's ear with a fingertip. "You're from another planet, sent here to spy on us…" He frowned, his voice trailing away. Clark had gone very still, had even stopped breathing. "Clark?"

Clark was staring at the floor again, his jaw tight, his body tense. Lex shook his head slowly. It was preposterous, impossible. And yet…

Lex slid his hand down to rest on Clark's shoulder. "Clark, are you a little green man from Mars?" The possibility that Clark was insane, completely out of touch with reality, crossed his mind, but he dismissed it immediately.

Smiling weakly, Clark met Lex's eyes. He shook his head, the tension draining from his body. "I'm not from Mars." His voice was nearly inaudible.

There was the ring of truth to Clark's words, but Lex didn't miss the evasion. "Where _are_ you from then?"

Clark closed his eyes and sighed. "I don't know."

Lex shook his head helplessly. "Clark, are you telling me you're from another _planet_?"

Clark shrugged, his eyes a windswept summer's day. "Lex… I…" He shook his head sharply, then held Lex's gaze steadily. "Yes."

Lex's mouth fell open, and he snapped it shut. He had never expected _this_.

Clark bit his lip and said softly, "Maybe I should go."

Lex blinked, and shook his head slowly. "I'm sorry, Clark. You don't have to leave. I just… are you sure? Because the meteor rocks can have some strange effects on human physiology."

Clark laughed shortly, his eyes clouding. "Yes, they can. But they have even stranger effects on me." He pressed his lips together tightly for a moment. "I brought the meteor rocks here. I mean, it's all because of _me_: everyone who died or was affected by them—I caused it." He glanced up at Lex. "Even you."

Lex frowned, then ran a hand over his smooth scalp. "What, this? It gives me character." He narrowed his eyes. "You couldn't have been more than two when Jonathan and Martha adopted you. How can you blame yourself for something that happened when you were that young?"

Clark shrugged helplessly. "The meteor shower followed my ship down. If I hadn't come here, Lana's parents would be alive—so many people would still be alive."

Lex put his palms on either side of Clark's head, and held his gaze. "Listen to me, Clark. It's not your fault. None of it."

Clark nodded, but the shadows didn't leave his eyes. "I know, but—"

"No buts." Lex brushed his thumbs across Clark's cheekbones. "If you hadn't come here—if I hadn't met you—I would have gone back to Metropolis to work for my father, and probably be self-destructing in a bar somewhere. Jonathan and Martha would have lost the farm, and possibly each other."

Clark opened his mouth as if to protest, but Lex continued. "You don't think having you gives them purpose? I may not have a loving family, but that doesn't mean I don't recognize it when I see it."

Clark nodded slowly. "My mom says I was a gift."

Lex smiled. "A bit sappy, but I'm sure she means it." Drawing circles on Clark's cheeks with his thumbs, his smile widened. "And, despite his thoughts on your choice in friends, I'm certain your father agrees—and neither one of them would choose to go back and change things if they could."

Clark's eyes drifted closed. "I guess you're right," he murmured.

Lex laughed softly. "Of course I'm right. And, for the record, I wouldn't go back and change things either." Leaning forward, he brushed his lips across Clark's again, then lifted his head and murmured, "So, now that I've corrupted you, and you've told me your deepest, darkest secret, how about that game of pool?"


	2. The Deepest Depths

The setting sun reached over the trees and through the open hay door to cast shadows across the walls of the loft. Clark watched the shadows stretch and fade, his thoughts spinning madly like the twister from the end of last year. It had been three days since he had revealed his secret to Lex, three days since Lex had kissed him. For those three days, he had walked around in a daze, trying to figure out how he felt. He still didn't know.

The sound of a powerful engine reached his ears; Clark stood up and watched Lex's Ferrari approach in a cloud of dust. The setting sun turned the cloud into a halo of bright motes dancing frantically then slowly settling as the car came to a stop in the yard. Lex stepped out and turned toward the barn, his long coat swirling around him.

Clark stepped back from the opening, then frowned, unsure why he had done that. Lex had seen him anyway, and was striding purposefully toward the barn. Clark took a deep breath and turned around to face him as he climbed the stairs.

A small smile curved Lex's lips as he reached the top of the stairs and stopped, leaning lightly on the railing. Only a sliver of sun still showed above the horizon now, and the tendrils of light left his face in shadow. His eyes were unreadable, dark as the deepest depths of the ocean. "Clark." The greeting was warm, yet guarded, as if he wasn't sure of his welcome.

Clark returned the smile. "Hey, Lex."

Lex took a step forward, his coat rustling around his legs. "Lovecraft said, 'It were better to glimpse the sky and perish, than to live without even beholding day'." His voice was soft, almost hypnotic.

Clark nodded, a bit unsure what he was agreeing to. As Lex walked toward him, all sinuous grace, Clark's stomach flipped over.

Lex stopped in front of Clark with only inches between them. His eyes were fathomless. "But what if you glimpse the sky, then do not perish? Would you not then do anything in your power to behold day once again?"

"Uh, I guess. Yeah." Clark frowned slightly, trying to figure out what the sky had to do with anything. Lex wasn't usually quite this difficult to understand. And who was Lovecraft?

One side of Lex's mouth rose higher, and he lifted a hand, brushing his fingertips lightly through the hair over Clark's ear. A shiver ran over Clark's skin, all the way down his body. Lex tilted his head to one side. "Have you been avoiding me, Clark?"

Clark was having trouble drawing a full breath. "What?" He was also having trouble thinking. Lex's fingers traced the curve of his ear, sending tiny shocks down his spine.

"It's been three days," Lex murmured, "and you haven't visited, haven't called… I was beginning to worry." He trailed his fingers down the side of Clark's neck to rest on his shoulder. "I haven't told anyone your secret."

Clark swallowed hard. "I didn't think you would. I trust you, Lex."

Lex's smile widened, his eyes glinting. "That means a lot, Clark." His smile faded and he turned his head, looking down at the rough boards that made up the floor. "It's difficult for me to trust. My father raised me to see everyone as a threat, to constantly look for ways to seize the advantage." He turned back to meet Clark's gaze, his eyes troubled. "And yet, I think I've always trusted you. Even when you were lying to me."

"I'm sorry, Lex. I didn't—" Clark began, but Lex cut him off.

"It's okay, Clark. I understand. That's not something you tell people right off." He grinned. "Hi, my name is Clark Kent and I'm from another planet."

"Yeah." Clark grinned back, relieved. He had expected Lex to be at least a little upset; Lex hated being deceived.

"Hey." Lex grabbed Clark's hand and stepped back, tugging gently. "Why are we standing when there's a perfectly good couch right there?"

Clark allowed Lex to lead him to the couch and pull him down to sit next to him. It was a relief to allow his legs to collapse. Usually, standing wouldn't tire him, but he found himself weak at the knees now when Lex touched him. Something had changed between them, and he still had no idea how he felt about it.

"Hey, Clark. Where did you go?" Lex put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed gently. "Penny for your thoughts?"

"Oh, it's nothing. I mean…" Clasping his hands between his knees, Clark bit his lip and stared at the floor. It was such a habit to lie, but he wasn't going to do that anymore. He took a deep breath. "I'm just… wondering… what are we doing?" He raised his eyes to meet Lex's seastorm gaze, and shrugged helplessly.

Lex pursed his lips thoughtfully. "That's a good question, Clark. I actually came here today to ask you what you thought. Have I ruined our friendship?"

Clark's mouth fell open, and he snapped it shut, shaking his head. "No. No, you haven't. I just—I don't know what I think." He shrugged again. "I never expected… that."

Lex laughed incredulously. "You're telling me you never once thought about it? And you never suspected that I… You really are an innocent, aren't you, Clark?"

Clark frowned. "Never suspected that you … what?"

Lex sighed, leaning back against the couch arm. "In all the time you've known me, Clark, how many people have I let into my life—really let in?" He waved a hand dismissively. "And I don't just mean into my bed." He sat up and leaned forward, his gaze intense. "I told you I don't trust easily, Clark. I also don't do favours for just anybody." He shook his head. "And you never suspected."

"I just… well, you're my friend." Clark lifted his hands helplessly, palms up. "I've never asked you to do anything I wouldn't do for you."

Lex's smile was warm and full of promise. He slid forward and laid his hand on Clark's knee. "I know. That's why." At Clark's bewildered look, he continued, "I've never had a friend like you before, Clark. You inspire me to do better, to _be_ better." He grinned, running his gaze over Clark, an eyebrow raised. "And, you know, you're pretty hot."

Clark nearly choked, and ended up sputtering. "_What?_"

Lex laughed out loud. "God, Clark, if I had known this is how you would react, I'd have kissed you months ago!" When Clark only gaped stupidly, he said, "You're so cute when you're unbalanced," and leaned in and kissed him again.

Unbalanced. That was a good word for it, since it felt like the world was tilting around him. Last time, Lex's lips had only brushed across Clark's, a fleeting whisper of contact that left him gasping. This time, Lex pressed his mouth against Clark's, his lips moving in a way that sent thrills up and down Clark's spine.

Then Lex's tongue flicked out, teasing Clark's lips, and a jolt went through his body. The memory of the sound of cracking wood filled his head, so much like bones breaking. He pulled back, suddenly terrified. "Lex, I–I could hurt you."

Lex's eyes were a calm ocean on a sunny summer day. "You could. But you won't."

"No." Clark shook his head. How could he make him see? "I wouldn't mean to, but I didn't mean to break your pool table either."

A slow smile spread across Lex's face. "So you're saying you can't control yourself around me?"

"What? Lex, this is serious!" But the idiot's smile just got wider.

"Hold onto something else then, if you're worried." Lex slapped the back of one hand against a couch cushion. "I don't think these are breakable."

"No, I–I guess they aren't." And Clark grabbed the cushions with both hands as Lex went in for another kiss.


	3. After the Storm

Lex pressed his lips against Clark's, sliding a hand up over the blue shirt that covered muscles so perfect a Greek sculptor could have carved them. Unlike sculpted marble though, they trembled under his touch. Clark's eyes fluttered shut, long dark lashes sweeping across his perfect cheeks—like a painting of an angel.

Raising his head, Lex glanced at where Clark clutched the cushions in an iron grip. One side of his mouth lifted. "There. Perfectly safe." He skimmed his fingertips over Clark's shirt, drawing random patterns on the blue fabric.

Clark's eyes slid halfway open, shuttered stormclouds peering up at Lex from where he lay back on the couch. "What?"

Lex's smile grew wider. Clark really was adorable like this, his eyes a clouded sky, his lips swollen from kissing. "The cushions."

"Oh." Clark turned his head toward his death grip on the cushions and nodded. "Right." Lex bent and kissed the corner of his mouth, then the edge of his jaw. Clark tipped his head back and a sound that was nearly a squeak escaped him.

Closing his own eyes for a few seconds, Lex took a few deep breaths. Seeing and hearing Clark's reactions was doing some new and interesting things to him, and he needed to get himself under control. He was used to taking the lead in this sort of situation.

Clark chose that moment to lift his hips. It might have been a spontaneous reaction, or it could have been purposeful: either way, all thoughts of keeping a tight rein on himself vanished like clouds rushing away with the wind. Clark grinding against him was the best thing that had ever happened to him.

Closing his eyes, Lex pressed down, meeting Clark halfway. A groan escaped his throat. "God, Clark," he breathed, his voice rough.

Somehow, Clark's hands were on Lex's shoulders. He must have released the pillows without noticing. His grip, while likely leaving bruises, was nothing Lex couldn't handle. In fact, he had weathered worse. It was exciting, to be honest—hands that could snap his bones resting so close to his spine. It was like pushing a powerful car to its limits and trusting that it would hold together, that it would stay on the road.

Straddling Clark's hips, Lex bent and brushed his lips across Clark's mouth again. A shiver rippled through both as if they were one. Lex straightened, sliding his hands under Clark's shirt. Finding his nipples, Lex pinched them between his fingers, and gasped when Clark's hips lurched up again, nearly knocking him off.

Clark's hands dropped from Lex's shoulders to grip his hips and hold him in place. "Lex," he whispered, his voice cracking, a note of pleading threaded through it.

Bracing himself with his hands on Clark's chest, Lex rocked his hips against him. His grip tightening on Lex's hips, Clark opened his eyes and held his gaze as he moved with him, unevenly until they found a rhythm, their bodies moving together faster and more desperately until Clark went still, eyes wide, every muscle tense—then he fell into a shuddering mass, his body twitching, a lightning storm raging in eyes that fought to hold Lex's.

Watching Clark fall apart pushed Lex over the edge himself, and he threw his head back, riding the waves until he collapsed onto Clark's chest, letting his eyes fall shut. Stars burst on the backs of his eyelids and he clutched at Clark's arms, his hands shaking. "Clark," he managed, his voice barely a whisper, reflecting the wonder that filled him. "That was…"

Eyes like the sun after the storm smiled up at him. "Yeah. It was."

Laying his head down on Clark's chest, Lex closed his eyes, focusing on slowing his breathing. He had never lost control like that before, and it was a bit terrifying while simultaneously exhilarating. And yet, he felt safer in Clark's arms than anywhere else. And wasn't that a maudlin idea?

"Clark! Clark?" Jonathan's voice floated up from outside, moving toward the barn, and Lex's eyes flew open, every muscle in his body tensing.

Raising his head, he met Clark's wide eyes. "Clark," he hissed, barely moving his lips, "your father is going to _kill_ me."

"No." Clark lifted a hand and laid it along the side of Lex's face, his swollen lips turning down a bit at the corners. "We… won't tell him."

A choked laugh slipped between Lex's lips. "He'll know."

Clark frowned and bit his lip, his teeth very white against the red. "How?"

Closing his eyes, Lex rested his head against Clark's chest for a few seconds, trying not to succumb to the hysteria bubbling up inside him. Then he pushed himself up and off of Clark, and ran a shaky hand over his face. "You need to look in a mirror, Clark. Hell, I probably look almost as bad. Only 'almost' because your hair is a glorious mess."

Clark sat up beside Lex and smiled at him. "You look amazing."

Lex's lips curled up of their own accord. "So do you, Clark. But you also look—and smell—like you just had a roll in the hay. Which you did. _We_ did. " He stood up as the barn door below rolled open and Jonathan's footsteps sounded across the floor. His voice fell back into a hissed whisper. "Shit, Clark, your father is going to _murder_ me!"

"Clark?" The sound of Jonathan's boots on the lower stairs sent Lex stumbling backward to fall gracelessly on the couch, his chest tight. Jonathan might actually literally kill him.

"No." There was a steely resolve in Clark's voice that brought Lex's head up in surprise. Then Clark was sliding his arms under Lex and lifting him as if he weighed nothing.

"What?" Lex gaped up at Clark. He probably looked like an idiot with his mouth open in shock, but then Clark was _carrying him_ like some damsel in distress or something, so he didn't really have much dignity left to lose.

"Hold on," Clark said, and Lex wrapped his arms around Clark's neck because why not? And then he had to turn his face into Clark's shoulder because they were moving so fast the wind was slashing at him like whips flaying his skin.

Seconds later, Clark stopped, and Lex raised his head and stared. "Is this… Crater Lake?" He slid down and stood on shaky legs, keeping a hand on Clark's shoulder for balance. "How did you…"

Clark shrugged, his expression sheepish. "I'm not just strong. I have several… abilities."

"Well." His balance returning quickly, Lex took a step toward the lake, letting his hand fall to his side. He looked back at Clark over his shoulder, raising an eyebrow. "Fancy a dip then?"

Clark grinned. "Yeah."

Striding toward the lake, Lex could feel Clark's gaze on him as he pulled his shirt off over his head and tossed it on the ground. Grinning, he stripped off his slacks and stepped out of them without breaking stride. As he reached the end of the dock, he slipped out of his briefs, and dove into the clear water naked.

When he surfaced, flicking water out of his eyes, he spotted Clark's jeans and bright blue t-shirt lying discarded on the shore and he turned a slow circle while treading water. Clark was nowhere to be seen, but then something brushed against his leg. Contrasting with the cool water, warm hands slid up his thighs and over his hips as Clark surfaced facing him.

Meeting Clark's laughing sun-drenched eyes, Lex _did not_ think about the rest of Clark's body, underwater, inches from his own. Possibly—probably?—as naked as he was. Those hands were so distracting, thumbs moving in little circles on his hipbones. How was Clark staying above the surface without treading water anyway? Annoying alien.

Unable to use his own hands—they were busy keeping him afloat, since he couldn't ignore physics like Clark could—Lex used his lips instead, leaning forward and brushing them across Clark's. He smirked at the ripples that betrayed Clark's shudder, delighted that he had such power over someone so powerful. Then Clark suddenly pulled Lex close, and he grabbed at broad shoulders to keep his head above water.

"Are you trying to drown me, Clark?" And yet, to his surprise, even with Lex's added weight, Clark didn't sink; he just bobbed a bit and grinned, his eyes sparkling. He really was annoying.

"Relax, Lex. I wouldn't let you drown." Clark's warm hands pulled Lex even closer, and—oh. Clark _was_ naked. And hard. As naked and hard as Lex was. "Hey, Lex?" Clark whispered.

Lex swallowed. "Yeah?"

"Thanks for corrupting me." Clark's grin was devilish, his eyes bright.

"Anytime, Clark." Lex chuckled, a bit breathlessly. "Anytime."


End file.
